


Dean: Lean, Mean, Landscaping Machine

by mssrj_335



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bitching, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, In Love, M/M, Retirement, coffee-drinking, landscaping, old grumpy men, some language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6612595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taken from the tags here: http://robotmango.tumblr.com/post/79493895189</p>
<p>Dean and Cas have retired.  The neighbors are putting up a new fence and Dean is having none of it.  Cute, short, and bitchy</p>
<p>Let me reiterate: this idea was not originally mine.  I just had fun with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean: Lean, Mean, Landscaping Machine

 

http://robotmango.tumblr.com/post/79493895189

 

* * *

 

Dean could safely say he didn’t much care for his neighbors choices in landscaping.  Twenty years ago, maybe, when he had kids of his own scurrying around the yard on a hot summer’s day and more to worry about than the best kind of shade tree to plant for the Midwest.  But now, shrieking kids grated on his nerves.  The piles of unused but not quite discarded toys and tools disrupted his daily sunrise vista.  Late nights of sleepovers and parties killed the peace he’d worked so hard to build.  Suburban living in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, that’s what he’d been stuck with when his neighbors had moved in.  And today…

 

Today, they were getting a fence.  

 

As much as he hated the truth of it—and if Sam ever pointed it out, Dean made sure to tell him to shove it right up his—Dean had become the grouching, coffee-swigging, porch-sitting version of a Stepford Wife.  He did things a particular way in his old age, and keeping his lawn up was one particular thing he did do.  Except now, the things they were doing to his lawn were _disturbing the order_.  The installers hefted cheap plastic posts in through the drive and Dean felt a splinter of distaste lodge in his stomach.  What was wrong with a few good spruce trees for a fence?  It would’ve looked twice as good as the white Lowes monstrosities currently being pounded into the ground.  Dean guzzled more of his coffee and shook his head.  

 

Still.  It _was_ a beautiful day.  The sun was soft and the air was cool; a perfect selection of fall weather.  Maybe he should just try to enjoy the morning anyway…

 

He immediately changed his mind when a saw started grating.  What the hell did they need a hand saw for?!  It was all plastic, for chrissake.  Jackasses probably couldn’t tell a table saw from a cheese slicer.  He downed the rest of his coffee in disgust and made for the front door. 

 

“Cas, come look at this!” Dean called through the screen.

 

A moment, then a familiar shock of untidy black hair poked through the doorway.

 

“Look at what, Dean, what on earth is going on out here?”

 

Dean glanced back at the forming faux-palisade like it had personally insulted his mother.  

 

“The neighbors are putting up a fence.”

 

Castiel leveled his with a wrinkled, sardonic look.  Age had certainly not diminished his ability to make Dean feel about as big as an ant.  

 

“So?” 

 

Monosyllabic responses never boded well.

 

“I—just look at it, babe!” Dean whined, gesturing to the thing with a plaintive hand.  Castiel leaned further out the door but did not look swayed.  “It’s hideous!  Jesus!  It’s like eight feet high!”

 

Cas was not impressed.

 

“It’s _plastic_ , Cas.  I think we should get some bushes for our side.  A little firelight spiraea, you think?  Or some raised beds and rockspray cotoneaster?”

 

Castiel shook his head and leaned a little further out the door, planting a kiss on Dean’s cheek before plucking the empty cup from his hands and ambling back inside.  

 

“You’re the expert landscaper,” he called from the kitchen.

 

Dean groaned and gazed forlornly out at his perfectly manicured lawn.  Even if there was no one around to see it, it was something he took pride in, goddamn it!  This is what retirement was _supposed_ to be, not putting up with _this_.  He’d earned that right at least.  Unconsciously, Dean pulled his denim jacket tighter against his shoulders when the installers started blasting music from their car radio.  This was going to be a long day…

 

Cas returned to his side a few minutes later, a fresh cup of coffee in hand.  Dean knew that whatever Cas saw on his face wasn’t good, because the former angel started laughing quietly to himself.  

 

“It’s just a fence,” he chuckled.

 

Dean’s lip curled.  “It’s a fucking abomination, is what is it!” he raged. “I’m gonna hate staring at that fence every day!  Even some blue lyme grass would soften it up.”

 

Cas tugged his hand and laughed again.  “Come back inside, Dean,” he quipped, “or I’ll leave you out here all day.  Breakfast is ready.”

 

Dean took a drink of his coffee and sighed.  Something would have to be done about it, but not today.  Then, a crazy idea struck and he laughed maniacally to himself.  

 

“Hey Cas!” he called.  “Think you could still smite somethin’ if you were pissed enough?”

 

Dean’s face wrinkled with a smile when he heard Castiel’s long-suffering sigh.

 

“That’s not how this works, Dean!”

 

Dean trudged back inside with an exasperated laugh and one last poisonous look at his new enemy.  This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.  Dean had very strong opinions about landscaping.  And no one planted better shrubs than Dean.  

 

But, for now, breakfast.

 

 


End file.
